


Hiraeth

by Bincal



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst, Bobby has too many emotions, Character Study, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Sad bin, Slow Burn, This Is Sad, Whipped bob, bin has many names, it'll get less confusing dw, metaphors be wildin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:20:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bincal/pseuds/Bincal
Summary: “You don’t know me.”“No, but I want to.”Wherein Bobby wants to know more about the boy with too many names, and Hanbin has too many secrets he’s struggling to keep.





	1. Chapter 1

Some might say that Donghyuk was a great friend; that he was doing it for Jiwon’s own good. They might even praise his self-proclaimed “sacrifice of what could have been an otherwise great evening”. But Jiwon knew Donghyuk better than anyone else, better than even the younger boy knew himself most days, so the slight tremble in the other’s smile was enough to signal a bubbling apprehension.

Donghyuk _wanted_ to go out tonight: not just to force an ounce of socialisation into Jiwon’s recently bleak and work-centred life like he declared, but for an entirely selfish reason of his own. With how innately friendly his best friend had always been, this reason could be as simple as the fact that he just wanted a night out and couldn’t find any other friends to pester. Except, his poorly hidden desperation betrayed a different reason altogether. What this reason was, however, Jiwon couldn’t begin to guess.

He was a best friend, not a mind reader.

Needless to say, it wouldn’t take a mind reader to tell that Jiwon was _not_ impressed.

When Donghyuk had broken into Jiwon’s office at 5pm, with a spare key that he had somehow managed to steal several years back despite his best efforts at hiding it, Jiwon was already drowning in impending deadlines. Even the blonde’s usually contagious smile had done naught to thwart the suffocating the claws of stress crawling up his oesophagus towards his throat, threatening to squeeze the freedom to breathe out of him.

What he needed was not, not even _remotely_, a “break”. He needed to _fucking_ _work_.

“Just hear me out?” Donghyuk pleaded with him again, persistently grabbing Jiwon’s hand away from the pen that he kept reaching for. Partly to stop him from outright ignoring Donghyuk and just continuing to work, and partly because if the clenching in his friend’s jaw was anything to go by then he was one wrong move away from the pen lodging itself somewhere fatal: namely, his throat.

“I’ve heard what you had to say, and I said no.” Jiwon grunted out, huffing with a displeasure so great it could probably have humidified to a thick stench of sourness.

“No you didn’t! I barely let out a word before you turned me down completely!” Donghyuk exclaimed, quickly continuing to take advantage of the brief pause in retaliation he had manage to accomplish. “Look, you’re obviously struggling with this song, right? You have a week to get it done-”

“6 days-”

“which is _more_ than enough time. At least, if you have some kind of inspiration-”

“which I _don’t_-”

“_so_ instead of sitting in this tiny room and working yourself up, you should have a change of setting to _give_ yourself some inspiration!” Donghyuk finally let out, voice raised and breathless from the effort of rushing his point. He was met with silence, able to see crack of doubt through Jiwon’s anger so he lunged at it. “It’s no wonder you haven’t been able to write anything when you’ve barely even left this room in 2 except to buy just enough junk food to survive from the corner shop! You know what you’re usually like: with the right mindset you can easily write a song in a day or two max, give another day for the finishing touches. The fact that this is so unlike you should make you realise that something is _wrong_, and maybe you should change your tactics! If you continue to stay here, all you’re going to do is drive yourself mad!”

The outburst hit Jiwon with a jolt, as though someone had splashed a bucket of ice water over his head. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and wheeled his chair back to distance himself from his desk.

It was a _mess_, he realised shaken as if seeing his studio for the first time. There were crumpled sheets of paper everywhere, long since overflowing the little metal bin by his desk and flooding the navy carpet. A tower of stacked, instant ramen cups barely stood in the corner; having been pretty much the only meal he’d had time to eat in 2 weeks. His desk was littered with notes, most of which were barely legible safe for the odd word due to the harsh scribbling, and he even made out a few bent pens spilling out with ink which he must have been squeezing too hard during his work-crazed agitation. Jiwon didn’t even dare tilt his head to look down at himself; the tiny pale couch against the wall had log since become his second bed once he’d realised that actually going home wasted too much time, so he couldn’t even tell when the last time he’d had a proper shower was. He must’ve looked, and smelled, like _shit_, and suddenly he was feeling sorry for Donghyuk finding him in such a state. His best friend was right, this was _so unlike_ him. Eventually, he let his head fall into his chest: a non-verbal surrender.

Donghyuk sighed at the sudden deflation and ran a hand through his recently dyed blond locks. Another sigh later and he was reaching forward to pull the other out of his chair, as well as his own self-misery. “Look… Go home, take a shower, throw on something reasonable and I’ll come pick you up at 7. Okay?” He waited for Jiwon’s small nod before smiling one of his brightest smiles and leaving the studio, presumably to get ready himself. Possibly, also, to not humiliate Jiwon any further.

* * *

The bar Donghyuk had dragged him to was an unfamiliar one. Which was surprising, seeing as it was located in the centre of town. He must have passed it countless times and never noticed it.

The exterior of the bar itself couldn’t have made it any less inconspicuous in its identity. A neon sign hung boldly on its dark walls, ‘SingSong’, proudly displaying the cheesy name. It looked cheap, if Jiwon had to be honest. He turned toward Donghyuk in question but his friend remained unfazed by the pompous exterior, heading towards the entrance with an air of familiarity.

The interior was bland in comparison, seemingly no different to any other bar. Though to his surprise, it wasn’t nearly as empty as he’d expected for its low-key reputation. There were small to medium groups of people scattered around the room, standing or perching around small bar tables. More tables were occupied than empty, and several people were standing in an open square with far too quiet music: a pathetic attempt at a dance floor. Only a select few were buzzed enough to even sway their hips, though Jiwon assumed the number would increase as the night progressed.

Donghyuk wasted no time in advancing towards the drinks bar, Jiwon scrambling to catch up after his rough sweep of the place. He noticed the blonde hesitate for a moment, uncharacteristically, then wave his hand to gather the bartender’s attention.

“Hey!” Donghyuk called once the other had finally noticed him and started making his way towards them. A bright smile caught his cheeks before he’d even noticed, the bartender returning the gesture just as eagerly.

“Hello to you too. What’s the occasion this time?” The man across the bar greeted kindly. So Donghyuk had been there before? Jiwon followed Donghyuk in getting comfortable in the tall leather stool and continued to watch his friend converse with piqued interest.

“Well, I’m just taking out my mate over here,” Donghyuk gestured towards Jiwon, “he desperately needs a night out. He works too much, you know? Making music and that.”

“Ah, the producer friend? It’s nice to meet you, I’m Yunhyeong. The owner of this bar.” Jiwon returned the stranger’s smile, but not before glaring at Donghyuk for speaking on his behalf as if the other weren’t there.

However, something about this situation was probing at him: the slight wobble in Donghyuk’s smile, the lift in pitch when he spoke, the jitter of his hands as he nervously kneaded them together. There really was another reason he had wanted to come after all, huh.

Yunhyeong quickly got called from the other end of the bar so Jiwon waited for the boy to move down to serve the customer before speaking.

“So… Yunhyeong, huh?” He grinned wickedly, nudging his friend gently and only smiling wider when the other shoved him back in response.

“What about him? I’ve been here a few times, so I see him around.” Donghyuk responded, trying to seem nonchalant whilst eyeing the topic of discussion to make sure he wasn’t within earshot. His slight blush at the mention of the name didn’t go unnoticed by Jiwon, however.

“Come on, Dong. This clearly isn’t exactly a bar people come back to more than once just for no reason.” Jiwon pointed out, “Plus, you were so desperate to go out. It wasn’t just to get me out the house, was it? You wanted an excuse to see Yunhyeong.”

Donghyuk flushed at his remark and lifted his hands up to his cheeks in a futile attempt to hide their red tint. “No… I mean, we’re just friends. I just wanna support him and his bar, you know?”

“And bang him if you’re lucky, right?” This won him a punch to the arm, but it was worth it at the completely flustered look on Donghyuk’s face. He found it so hilarious that he had to physically cover his mouth to try and calm himself down, seeing as Yunhyeong was giving them curious looks from where he was still serving a group of people.

Yunhyeong had started heading back to them to carry on the conversation and Jiwon could already feel himself getting tired from the cringe-fest that was Donghyuk flirting, so he swivelled on his stool to lean back on the bar and let his eyes scavenge the place. He wasn’t exactly willing to stick around and third wheel for the night, so he decided to find himself some action seeing as tonight was supposed to be his night of distraction. There had been a few more people joining the others on the joke of a dance floor, but most still sat drinking easily at bar tables. Surprisingly there wasn’t much of a social class divide: there seemed to be both esteemed businessmen and partying teenagers attending. It was unusual to see such a variety of status quo’s, though none were really mixing with each other. It wouldn’t take long for that to change, he was sure, with some more alcohol in their system.

His eyes settled on a figure then, sitting alone in the corner of the room. He was surprised to spot the other looking back already, watching him with low eyes and slightly raised eyebrows. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face before he tilted his head towards the empty chair in front of him in an inviting gesture. Jiwon chewed his bottom lip in contemplation, though looking back at the couple that was now leaning across the counter to whisper seductively and giggle was the only push he needed to make up his mind. He downed a shot that Donghyuk must have ordered as an excuse to call Yunhyeong over before grabbing his whisky glass and decisively striding towards the stranger.

He plopped ungracefully onto the stool opposite the boy. Being closer now, he could see the scruffy brown locks that framed his slender face. His nose could have been made from wax and shaped by artists from how perfect it was, underneath which lay the softest looking heart-shaped lips he’d ever laid his eyes on. They curved slightly into a smirk and Jiwon realised he’d been staring at them for too long, so he flitted his eyes back up, catching the eyes of the other. It was these eyes that had grabbed his attention at first. Something in them screamed out to him, summoning him forth blindly like the pied piper to his child-like self.

“Hey.” Jiwon finally uttered out, realising that he was probably expected to initiate the conversation seeing as he was the one that had sat down. “You looked lonely. You don’t mind me joining, do you?”

“Only if you’re good company.” The other replied, keeping a steady smirk on his face.

Jiwon grinned a toothy smile in response, before remembering that the key to flirting was in confidence not dopiness and toning it down to a more measured one. “Well, I think you might just deem me worthy. I know some killer dad jokes.”

The other boy smiled more genuinely at this; a dorky smile that almost seemed to escape on its own, and Bobby suddenly couldn’t breathe. There was something so raw about it that caught him off guard, but the moment lasted only a second before the stranger was schooling his smile into the confidence-layered one from before. “I’m Joonyoung. How about you let me buy you a drink?”

“Bobby. And depends, what are you offering?”

* * *

Kim Joonyoung was a Travel Advisor. He was 22, lived alone, and had never left the country. He liked his job, though admitted it was draining. He had a dog: 2 years old, a small Pomeranian. He had only one picture: taken in the last week. Just a ball of white fluff curled atop a pillowed bed.

These were facts Jiwon had learnt through small talk and probing, but their delivery was oddly hollow, as though saying them left a bitter taste in the other’s mouth. Jiwon himself had found the biggest joy when they spoke about topics aside from Joonyoung’s personal life.

The conversation strayed from pleasantries to abstracts: the beauty of a sunset caught above an ocean; the tragic but romantic image of a single working street lamp, the artistic inspiration that can be drawn from the plainest objects like a uniquely-woven basket. Joonyoung also seemed to have an expansive knowledge of music, though he didn’t make it openly known. But Jiwon knew, could see it in the attending eyes directed towards him when he had started talking about his most recent creations. Why the other tried to play it down, he didn’t know. Yet he entertained him regardless; explaining the significance of a particular chord sequence when the other asked even though it was clear he understood it beforehand.

When they spoke like this: leaning across the table towards each other with their forgotten drinks pushed to the side, hushed voices jokingly making up scenarios about whether the lanky guy five metres from them would be able to pull the girl he’d been hitting on all night in the end; it felt like the world outside had paused to let them thrive in the present moment. Their own lives were forgotten, and all that mattered is their mixing breaths and the feeling of knees pressing deeply into his own. Jiwon was drowning, getting drunk not off the alcohol that he had never cared to finish but in the soft boy before him with sparkling eyes.

Suddenly feeling as though he would float away, he reached forward to place a hand over Joonyoung’s, and the spell broke. Joonyoung’s eyes widened and he pulled back, looking down at his phone to check the time.

“I need to go.” He let out and started gathering his things in a rush.

Jiwon panicked, “Wait! Let me at least get your number!” The brunette turned back to look at him for a moment, a blank unreadable look crossing his face. Then he grabbed the napkin from the table and a pen from his bag before scribbling out some digits.

He tossed the napkin toward Jiwon and moved to stand, but paused.

He gave a final smile, “It was nice meeting you,” then turned to rush out of the bar. Jiwon looked down at his own phone to read the bright ’00:02’ on the screen. He sighed and decided to head home, knowing that Donghyuk would want to spend time alone with Yunhyeong since the bar closed in half an hour.

He was still buzzing from the experience when he got home: it ended too quickly. He was still reliving every second of the evening in his head, ruminating every small smile hidden behind a delicate hand or boisterous laugh that made his insides curl. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get the boy out of his mind for a while, but cradled the napkin with hope that he’d at least speak to the boy again.

He had to. Joonyoung would want to speak again too, he was sure. Nobody could deny that there was a natural chemistry between them.

So then why did his final smile look so sad?

* * *

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Jiwon has once again resorted to cooping himself in his studio; but in a healthier mindset this time. He was actually being productive.

Despite knowing that Donghyuk’s motivations were somewhat deceiving, his initial argument had in fact worked. The incredible night at SingSong was more than just inspiring, judging by the fact that the brunette plagued his mind more than was probably healthy for someone he barely knew.

Not that he minded, he finally had a muse for the first time in so long. And with the muse came the inspiration; then the lyrics, then notes and before long, he had finished two songs and was working on a third despite only needing one. It was refreshing after weeks of hair-pulling and paper-ripping to finally feel like he was actually making progress.

He had become so hyper-focused on his work that he almost completely forgot to actually text back the reason for his sudden burst in work ethic at all, until the Saturday five days later.

Jiwon was eating breakfast after a night at home for the first time in a while when it hit him. He hurriedly pulled out the saved contact, having had added it as soon as he got home.

[To Kwon Joonyoung]

_\- _Hey, it’s Jiwon from SingSong?

\- Um, from Wednesday

He internally cringed at the awkward message but decided to wait for the other before elaborating any more. It was only a few minutes later that he heard the ping of his phone and he grabbed at it to read the response.

[From Kwon Joonyoung]

\- Sorry wrong number mate, idk a Joonyoung

\- Girl musta clowned u, that sucks dude

This was wrong. He must have written the number in wrong. He was sure he checked it several times but you never know, it was dark, and he was tired.

Jiwon ditched his half empty bowl of Cookie Crisp to rush to his room in search of the original napkin. He was sure he hadn’t thrown it away yet, just didn’t get around to it. It didn’t take him long to find the napkin buried under a sweater on the floor. He quickly compared the scribbled numbers to the ones on his screen.

Then again.

And another time, for good measure.

_No difference. _

The guy could have gotten his own number wrong, right? Maybe he was drunker than he appeared, or made a dumb mistake in his rush home. He wouldn’t have given him a wrong number, not after they had such a good time together.

Right?

“Right?” Jiwon finished his panicked rant. He was still wearing his PJ’s, sitting at his dinner table before a now soggy cereal bowl that he never got round to finishing. Jinhwan sighed from the other side of the line, hopefully in deep thought not in exasperation.

“Listen, Bobby. I love you, and trust me when I say I’m happy that you’re not holed up in your studio anymore and ranting to me about music shit I can’t understand. But no matter how much I love you, I quite honestly could not give less fucks about your gay panic when it’s 8am in the morning and you’ve woken me from my dearly needed sleep. Did you forget that I live with an air horn in human form? Sleep is a luxury not often earned in this household. Just… you met him at that bar thingy on Wednesday, right? Just go there again or whatever. You might get lucky. If not, then I don’t know. Don’t call me when I’m sleeping or I’ll personally send Junhoe out to scream you awake at unreasonable hours of the night. Bye”

That’s how he found himself staring at the overbearing flashing letters only 7 days after his first time. He felt ridiculous, was he really so romantically deprived that he was chasing after some hot stranger like a fawning schoolgirl?

But there was something different about him, something that had Jiwon’s heart tugging at the thought of not seeing the man with a beautiful smile again. A tragedy rooted in deep charcoal eyes that had him wanting to give the boy answers to questions he hadn’t even heard yet. _That’s exactly what a schoolgirl would say. _

He decided not to beat up his own dumb choices any longer. He could go in there and make a full of himself, or leave now and forever regret never trying. So he finally threw open the door and entered.

His eyes flew across the room as soon as he walked in. There was no point dilly-dallying, he knew what he was here for. He would find the guy, go up to him and- what? What exactly was his end-goal here?

The regrets started flying in all at once but it was too late, because that’s when his eyes set upon the back of a frustratingly familiar mop of hair. The hairstyle was different but even from the back he couldn’t mistake it. His legs moved on their own, his mind not even fully catching up with what was happening before he was standing right in front of the table and _he was literally right in front of him_.

Jiwon barely let the other notice his presence before his mouth started babbling on its own, a nervous habit he’d been trying to kill for too long now. “Hey it’s me, uh, Jiwon-I mean Bobby, from last week um. I’m not being creepy and following you I just came here by accident- well, not accident but like this is just chance that I met you again and all but.. basically what I’m trying to say is the number you gave me was wrong and-“

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the soft voice spoke out. Jiwon shut up immediately, gazing into the eyes that looked softer than ever under the pale lighting glistening his features. The man looked gorgeous, and Jiwon felt his breath catch slightly as it did when he first laid eyes on him because_ how could he look so undeniably handso_\- “but who are you?”

Wait, _what?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finally done , lol .
> 
> Yes , Joonyoung is Hanbin. I know . It’s confusing . It’ll get less confusing next chapter , dw . 
> 
> Alsoooo follow me on twitter pls I have no friends @aj_binc :P


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby finds out more information about the stranger, yet feels like it only made him understand him less.

The first emotion to overcome him was confusion: his mouth opening and shutting soundlessly without being able to formulate a real sentence.

Then it was doubt; he must have misheard, these kinds of situations just _didn’t happen_ in real life.

But the continued stoic expression on the other boy’s face led him to his third emotion: fury.

“Look, if you really hated me so much that you gave me a fake number and now you’re pretending you don’t even know me, you could have just said so instead of giving me hope.” Jiwon seethed, bending down to level his eyes with the other.

The boy, _Joonyoung_, was only slightly startled, leaning away to place a distance to the intensity of Jiwon’s glare. He smiled apologetically, though it looked more like a wince than anything genuine. “I’m sorry, I wish I could help you, but you’ve really got me mixed up with someone else.”

_Not Joonyoung?_

“Oh.” Jiwon’s anger deflated all at once, leaving behind only a burning shame. “You, uh, don’t happen to have a twin brother, do you?” The other man’s face contorted comically at the question, as though feeling pitiful but also trying hard not to laugh at the ridiculousness.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He responded once he had managed to gather himself. His expression fell, then. A soft look overcame his features, striking something familiar with Jiwon. He’d seen those eyes before, they’re the same ones that called to him just seven days prior, hiding just that glimpse of sorrow in their endless depths.

He took a proper look at the boy now that he had calmed down and realised that he _did_ look different. Last week he had met a charismatic, working man; but right now, he was facing a seemingly diligent student. His hair, which last week was styled upwards to reveal his forehead was now loosely brushing his eyebrows. He had thin glasses nestled atop his perfect nose and a colourful plaster on his cheek. Even his clothing screamed innocence: a mustard over-sized sweater drowning his slender figure.

But it was still clearly the same person, at least that’s what Jiwon thought. He looked just as attractive, if not more so, and Bobby was just _lost_. His head was swimming, he still couldn’t wrap his head around the situation. Without overthinking, he pulled out the empty chair opposite the brunette to collapse into it and slam his head on the table a little too hard. After an internal curse party at himself that involved scolding his sheer stupidity, he looked up again.

The boy across him continued to stare at him owlishly in shock, so Jiwon straightened up and cleared his throat.

“So, um. What is your name anyway, exactly?” He was met with silence and a blank expression, and was about to repeat the question before the small voice finally answered.

“D-Daehyun. J- um, Nam Daehyun.” Nam Daehyun, not Jung Joonyoung. Likely university student, not a fully employed travel agent. Soft and shy, not confident and talkative. The two men were nothing alike, even the stutter was different. Jiwon felt like an idiot.

“So you’re a student, huh.” Jiwon finally sighed, defeat evident in his tone. “What u reading there?” He gestured towards the thick book in his hand, the writing not quite big enough and the light too dimmer to read the title.

Daehyun seemed taken aback at the question, staring dumbly at the book in his hands to read the title. “‘The Power of Habit’, it’s Psychology related…” He read out loud, though continued to stare at the text with furrowed brows, as though doing so long enough would magically change the letters woven into the crisp cover. His eyes snapped up again though with a jolt, the intensity of his stare shifting to Jiwon’s own passive one. “Weren’t you looking for someone? Why are you still here?”

Something about the way he said it had Jiwon drawing up short for a moment. There was that _something_ again in his eyes, the familiar spark of an emotion he could not find the right words for. A emotion that was not singularly Joonyoung from last week nor the Daehyun in front of him, but a whole other person altogether. Someone more _real_, palpable.

The déjà vu hit him hard, spinning in a loop around his skull and forcing him to take a moment to conjure a response. “Well, he’s clearly not here anymore… and I’m not really in the mood to go home yet cause I only just got here.” He paused. “Do you mind me joining?” The question intentional in phrasing, willing way kind of response or recognition. But the boy just continued to stare blankly before shrugging and muttering a quiet _do what you want_ under his breath before the silence encompasses them once more. Daehyun makes it a point of looking anywhere but at him.

“So… you like Psychology?” Daehyun’s eyes widened momentarily before narrowing at him in scrutiny.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Don’t know much about the subject itself, but I enjoy observing and understanding people. I’ve just never had the chance to study it professionally or anything.” Jiwon hummed, nodding along to his own response. “Tell me about that book then, what kind of interesting things does it say?”

Daehyun searches Jiwon’s eyes, looking for answers that Jiwon doesn’t think he has. After a moment, his shoulders relaxed a bit and he looked back down at the book in his hands. “Well, to summarise it explores the science behind habit creation and reformation-“

* * *

  
Jiwon unlocked the key to his apartment in a daze, chucking the keys onto the first surface he saw once he entered.

He had ended up staying far longer than he intended. Daehyun, though on the surface appeared polar opposites with Joonyoung, had mutual charms with him that were undeniably bewitching. He was more quiet and shy at the beginning, but it was like that side of him vanished entirely when he started speaking about Psychology, an interest of his.

But it felt like he was holding back. He would get carried away and drop one too many smiles, before seemingly catching himself and falling back into his initially bashful appearance.

Jiwon still had no clue what he was even dealing with. Had he really just gotten Joonyoung mixed up with Daehyun? His mind screamed at him that the answer had to be yes, they were clearly different people. That was the most likely answer, anyway. But the similarities were frightening in their accuracy, and Jiwon found it harder to believe the two weren’t at least related. What if it really was the same person, maybe he had Dissociative Identity Disorder and he’d simply met two different egos? Or maybe he had amnesia, didn’t even remember his own name. The possibilities were endless.

There was a thought tugging at his gut, though. Ridiculous, outlandish, but _persistent:_ what if the boy was just _lying? _Putting on a show every time they met, and pretending to be a different person. It was a crude thought, made him feel embarrassed for even thinking it. He barely knew the lad and already he refused to think that lowly of him. Why would anyone even do that anyway? It made no sense.

But sometimes he caught them: the searching look towards him in his peripheral when the other thought he wasn’t looking; responses that took too long to formulate when a personal question was asked; the lick of recognition in curious eyes when Bobby brought up a topic he’d mentioned in the week before. Reasons that meant Jiwon couldn’t stop thinking _he’s lying, he’s knows._

Was it really because he wanted to get rid of Jiwon that badly? But then, why did his eyes show _relief_ when he asked to stay?

Maybe he was going mad, seeing things that weren’t even there. He wouldn’t be awfully surprised if he’d somehow hallucinated the majority of the recent events; aftermath of not leaving his studio for so long, as you could call it.

* * *

Standing outside the bar a day later for the third time in 2 weeks had him confirming his suspicions: _yup, I’m definitely going insane._

Why was he here? What was he hoping to accomplish?

It was stupid to even hope that the boy would be here again; it’s highly unlikely that he came here _every day_. He had a life. Probably.

Yet despite all his doubts, there was an aching need pumping in his blood. For knowledge, he supposed. He needed to know. He didn’t know if coming to SingSong again would give him his answers, but just the small chance that it _could_ had enough force to lead him here again.

He grabbed the handle to the entrance and froze. He could feel his heart speed up, _stupid_. What was he expecting upon entering, anyway? It’s not like he’d enter only to get hit face first with an enormous banner slung across the bar screaming ‘YOU’VE BEEN FRAMED’.

At least, he hoped not. That would shoot right up to his number 1 spot of ‘Top 10 Anime Betrayals’.

He slapped himself mentally to get a grip, _people are staring_, then finally forced himself into the building. His eyes squeezed shut against his will before he managed to see anything, so he steeped himself and opened his eyes to finally look inside and-

Nothing. _Absolutely nothing_.

Yeah, he was right to call himself stupid.

The inside looked the same as always. Still cheap and uninteresting, and still unfairly busy. His eyes darted around, searching desperately for familiar brown locks but again, found nothing. It was annoyingly demoralising. It makes sense, normal people don’t come back to rubbish and overpriced bars every day of the week.

Well, normal people also don’t chase after strangers who said they didn’t know him.

Jiwon stood at the entrance awkwardly, unsure whether to go in and drown his sorrows with alcohol or leave without achieving anything. He didn’t have to wonder long, though, as a familiar voice cut his thoughts.

“Bobby!” It was Yunhyeong, gesturing towards him from the bar. Jiwon returns what he hopes doesn’t look too much like a grimace and made his way dejectedly to where the other was mixing some kind of sunset-themed drink. “Nice seeing you again, how are you?”

“I’m good. I was here yesterday, too.” The words escape him against his wishes. He slaps himself internally, annoyed at his lack of filter.

“Oh, were you? I had a day off yesterday, my part-timer covered me.” That explained why he hasn’t spotted the other at the usual counter. “Meet anyone new?” Yunhyeong asked, a glint of suggestiveness dancing in his eyes.

”I don’t know…” Jiwon’s voice was barely a whisper, insecurity gripping him suddenly. The question was, unintentionally, too closely triggering of his dilemma. Yunhyeong frowned at his odd response, then rolled his eyes upward in thought. They widened suddenly, in some kind of revelation, and quickly turned to poorly-concealed pity.

“You met B.I, didn’t you?” The foreign name irked his interest.

“B…I?”

“The guy you were speaking to last week. You met him again yesterday, right? Since it’s a Wednesday.” Jiwon stared blankly, unable to make sense of what the other was saying. Seeing his confusion, Yunhyeong continued. “He probably introduced himself with a different name? Then said he was someone else when you saw him again?” He smiled sadly at the recognition that raked Jiwon’s expression.

“So it _was_ the same person?” Jiwon pleaded, desperate for the answers he had been ready to give up on.

“Yeah. Sadly. It’s what he does, you see. Comes here once a week, every Wednesday. Always with a different name and identity. But don’t misunderstand, he’s very much the same person. He doesn’t have different personalities or memory issues or anything, it’s just a thing he does.” _Just a thing he… does?_ IT left a sour taste in Jiwon’s mouth. The explanation Yunhyeong offered didn’t sit right with him, didn’t fit with the image he had of the stranger in his own head. Was B.I really just playing with him, with _everyone_? Was everything he learnt about him fake? Just a game he was playing to pass the time?

“So his real name is B.I?” Jiwon asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Oh, no! Nobody actually knows his real name, B.I is just what we call him to make it easier.” His smile shortened, turning more sympathetic. “I’m sorry if it felt like he played you, maybe I should’ve warned you beforehand…”

“No, it’s fine. I, um, it’s not a big deal.” Ha. Not a big deal, my ass. If that were true, Jiwon wouldn’t be this hung up over him. He sighed, deciding to leave the self-depreciation till he was home. “Why B.I then?”

Yunhyeong smiled almost bashfully, as though embarrassed by the question. “It’s just the table he always sits at. ‘B1’, technically, but it looks like an ‘i’. So.”

“Right.” He swallowed thickly, a lump suddenly stuck in his throat. “I think I’m just gonna… go. Thanks for telling me.”

“No worries, Bobby! Tell Dong to come over again soon.” Jiwon forced a polite smile onto his face, then got up to leave. “Oh! And, don’t take it personally, yeah? He does it everyone, really.” Jiwon turned back to send a slight nod in his direction, though the comment was far from reassuring.

Ants of dread started crawling at the bottom of his stomach. _What was he getting himself into?_

* * *

“-so I don’t know what to do? Like, I know he’s been lying to me but then even if he was lying about his name and job, it felt like he was genuine?”

Bobby looked up desperately at Jinhwan, the older had been tapping impatiently at the table since he started talking. Seeing Bobby’s utterly lost gaze, he huffed grumpily before wiping a hand down his face. “Bobby,” he stopped, re-organised himself, then tried again, surer this time. “Bobby. You’re going through a stressful time in your life; you’ve got deadlines and high expectations and a fuck ton of work, I get it, but when I told you that I was out at the moment that wasn’t an incentive for you to _join me _to_ tell me all your life issues! _Why the _fuck_ am I _always_ your number one confidante for your _gay panic_, and why is is always AT THE WORST MOMENTS!” Junhoe, who had been sitting beside him in silence ever since Bobby appeared out of nowhere to gate-crash their date and whine about his problems, opened his mouth to let out an ‘I don’t mind’, but was very quickly shut when Jinhwan sent an angry look in his direction. _Why_ couldn’t he just get a break _for one fucking day_ without someone trying to test his promise to never commit murder. _Thou shalt not kill;_ Jinhwan wasn’t even religious, but he was currently praying to any gods above that he can at least follow that rule right now.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date… you weren’t answering me, and I really need your help. You helped me see him again, so I thought you’d know what to do this time…” _Damn Bobby and his kicked puppy eyes. _However annoyed Jinhwan was, he could never properly push the younger away, especially not when he looked so miserable. It was like someone had just told him Santa wasn’t real, which was strangely enough not that far from the truth.

He sighed, already resigned to his fate. Shooting an apologetic look to Junhoe, who irritatingly looked more amused than annoyed anyway, he turned fully towards Bobby. “Look, the dude’s clearly got some issues. There’s a high chance he _is_ just playing you,” he tries not to get thwarted by the hurt that flashes across Bobby’s eyes, “_but_ if he really is as nice and honest as you make him out to be then maybe there’s another reason? Like, he can’t reveal his real identity for some reason, or doesn’t like who he really is so he puts on an act every time.” This seemed to make Bobby think, and Jinhwan was eternally grateful that he was good at making shit up on the spot. To him, the whole thing was clearly a game to the stranger. But Jiwon seemed so hung up on this man that he felt bad telling him to just give up.

“Why not just do it back?” Junhoe spoke up for the first time since the start of their conversation. The other two snapped their heads towards him in confusion, but he just shrugged. “You know, just go along with it and say you’re someone else too. Trip him up, see how he reacts.” The idea was so stupid, as most of Junhoe’s ideas were, and Jinhwan was about to make this opinion known when Bobby responded.

“That makes sense.” _It does? _“I think that might work.” _How?_ Jinhwan opened his mouth to let Bobby know that _this will literally not achieve anything,_ but felt himself get stopped by the conviction in the other’s eyes. There was something in them that hadn’t been present at the start of the conversation: determination. So he simply sighed, and nodded his head in empty agreement.

Well. This wasn’t going to end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way longer than I wanted it to sorryyyy 
> 
> It’s still very plot heavy , but I promise there will be much more double b from next chapter on :) 
> 
> And eyyy now y’all know what the reason was . So he was lying , huh? None of u expected that hahaha . But why would he lie? Hmmmmm


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Small Steps...

Jiwon fiddled with his sleeve, the thick material of the cotton blazer too unfamiliar and constricting. He was wearing clothing he didn’t even know he had; stuffed to the back of his closet and saved for formal occasions and special events. This situation was neither of the above.

Jiwon had taken to heart what Junhoe had offhandedly advised him when he crashed his and Jinhwan’s date a week prior. 

That day; he wasn’t Bobby the producer. He was Wosung: the sophisticated businessman from California, visiting his native country for a work trip; and he was going to approach an attractive stranger to offer him a drink. 

Well, if he repeated it enough times then he might just get more comfortable with the idea. 

Jiwon had no idea if this would work, or what it was even supposed to accomplish. But then, this had been the logic behind the majority of his recent decision making. If he had placed more thought to it then he might have realised that this was probably a warning sign, seeing as his problems seemed to only complicate themselves with each decision he made. But Jiwon had always preferred taking action than overthinking things, so this logic bypassed him.

  
  


When he entered SingSong this time, he strode towards the bar with a higher sense of purpose. At least, that’s how he hoped he appeared to any onlookers. When he reached Yunhyeong, he didn’t hesitate to order a strong tequila that he knew was a tad more expensive than he’d usually go for. Yunhyeong gave a curt greeting, eyeing the suit he had worn that day with curiosity, though he didn’t say anything of it. He must have spotted a certain look in his eye, a determination of some kind, because he quickly left to leave Jiwon to his own demises. 

It didn’t take him long to scan the place and find his target. _ There _ . Clothed in a simple shirt: no tie, three-quarter sleeves rolled up to show off deceivingly veiny forearms; and hair brushing perfectly sculpted eyebrows. Simple, yet gorgeous. How did the man manage to pull off absolutely every look possible? Not just pull off, but _ embrace._

_ He’s an actor, Jiwon. It’s just what he does. _

Silencing his wavering thoughts off with a shake of the head, he gripped his glass and steeled himself for the plan. 

When he approached B.I, he didn’t bother waiting for the other to notice him before speaking. “Are you religious?” He only paused for the other’s head to lift in confusion before continuing, “because I think you’re the answer to all my prayers.” 

One blink. Two blinks. Three blinks. 

Then the blank face in front of him contorted: scrunching first into a pinched expression from suppressed laughter; then loosening into a wide mouth and crinkled eyes. His whole body shook from the force of the laugh, boisterous and unforgiving. The first thing he noticed was the dimple peeking, more of a crease than dent from the wideness of the lips beside it. Then the asymmetrical eyes, squeezing shut and crinkling at the corners. Then, looking down; the usually sculpture-worthy nose that wrinkled and flared subconsciously in tune with the waves of hysterics. 

To someone else, the sight could have been seen as unattractive and goofy; but to Jiwon it was as though for the first time in history, the world had stopped tilting on its axis and time had paused to revel in the glorious moment. A cog had twisted into alignment, configuring for a sequence he hadn’t been able to work out before. 

_ This was it_. The doubt he had been feeling, the feeling of strangeness bugging him, the reason he couldn’t just let go and had ended up coming back to this place instead: it all made sense in that moment. 

B.I wasn’t an actor, nor a liar that was just playing with the people around him. He wasn’t even a conjuring of Bobby’s own imagination. He was real, palpable, but _ afraid_. Of something beyond Bobby’s understanding, perhaps. But the truth lay in the moments when he let his facade slip, or his wall found itself with a peephole. There was a human being hiding through that opening, and he was _ beautiful_. 

Bobby waited for B.I to recover, but not long enough for him to retaliate with a response. He reached out a hand, “I’m Wosung. A businessman.” He berated his awkwardness, _ people don’t usually say their profession until they’re asked, what are you doing? _B.I widened his eyes at his sentence, however, looking him over briefly as if seeing him for the first time before letting his lips rise into a smirk.

“Wosung, huh? And what exactly do you do as a businessman?” There was mischief shimmering in the man’s eyes, a challenge. Bobby gulped, he had prepared for this. He saw this coming. But all the words he had recited in his bedroom that morning escaped him when pinned under the other’s unwavering gaze. 

“I manage sales. In a company. Um, it’s called F.D.JOHNS.” He had taken too long to respond; could tell from the widening in B.I’s smile. That’s when he belatedly realised he hadn’t even sat down yet, scurrying to pull a chair out and settle down. “What about you? What’s your name?” Jiwon hurried the question, trying desperately to regain control of the conversation. 

“Han Inguk. I’m a salesman. So what exactly does your company sell?” B.I leaned forward, resting his head in his palms and his elbows on the table. His dark eyes locked on Jiwon’s own lighter ones; daring him, letting him know that every one of his moves was being watched for the most minor slip-up. _ ‘You think you can keep up with me?’_, his eyes asked. But Jiwon was more prepared this time, he wouldn’t let himself get intimidated. 

“Holidays. Well, we organise holidays. We’re actually based in the US, in California, but I fly to Korea a lot for business meetings, like to talk with the hotels we’re partnering with and so forth.” He spotted a tinge of pride in the other’s expression at his response, though it was so expertly hidden it could easily be passed off as intrigue. “So what exactly do you sell then, Inguk?” 

“Jewellery. I work in Pandora.” There wasn’t a beat of hesitance in his reply, but there was an achingly obvious disinterest in his own response. Jiwon had noticed it in their first meeting too, when he had tried to learn more about the stranger. B.I took no pleasure from talking about himself; or, more specifically, his persona for the night. It was as though he didn’t take any pleasure in putting on an act at all, rather it was just a safety net: a necessary means to accomplish something different. 

Or maybe he wasn’t trying to accomplish anything at all? Maybe it really was just a thing he does?

Jiwon felt himself start to drown in his thoughts, so he grabbed onto the table to ground himself back into the present moment.

“What is the one song that could always lift your mood, no matter how low you feel?” B.I stared blankly in response, before seeming to acknowledge the question asked to him. He tilted his head in thought, teeth peeking subconsciously to chew briefly on blossom lips before hiding away again. Bobby could see it, the turmoil in his eyes as he glanced away in feigned contemplation. But there was only one thing he was contemplating: _ should he make a lie up on the spot, or just tell the truth? _ The question Bobby had asked was a personal one, something that had no relevance to one’s career or life outside of the bar. It was based on pure emotion, pure individuality. If B.I chose to answer honestly, it would have been a more uniquely _ him _ answer than any possible responses about his real job or identity. 

“Jinjinjara…” The blush that immediately sprinkled B.I’s cheeks revealed which type of answer he had given. He threw himself back and a hand flew up to cover his mouth, appearing as surprised at his own response as Jiwon himself felt. Yet it made his heart swell with something akin to pride, as well as something else he had yet to identify; upon seeing the adorably flustered expression of the other. 

“By Tae Jin Ah?” Jiwon tried hard not to let the smile tugging at his own lips show so as not to embarrass the other further. “It’s a good song!”

“Yeah…”

“What about this: the song that can always make you cry?” _ Too far. _Something glimmered in B.I’s eyes but he quickly turned his head away.

“I don’t know. Something by Ed Sheeran, maybe.” This, Jiwon knew, was a lie again. The boy had reverted back into himself; revealed only a glimpse of reality before rushing to plaster the cracks that had formed in the wall. Something clearly held him hostage, made him believe that he wasn’t _ allowed _to open up.

It was disappointing, to say the least, but Jiwon counted the day as a win. A glimpse was better than nothing at all. He smiled warmly at B.I, wanting to convey his patience. _ Small steps. _

  
  


Before they knew it, they had set up an unspoken routine. 

Every Wednesday: they met at SingSong, always with their own newly made up identity. Neither acknowledged the truth, the familiarity; but it permeated the air as heavy as cloak. A tension that bubbled between them, evoking a sort of excitement in each other's presence. B.I, trying to keep up his act; and Bobby, always attempting to catch the other off guard, to wheedle just a glimpse of genuinity. 

During one such evening, Jiwon decided to pursue a… _ fresh _ approach. 

  
  


He rushed towards B.I without even grabbing a drink first. He was on a different mission, today.

“Are you… what’s your name?” B.I looked up confusedly, probably taken aback by the unusual boldness. 

“Seo YunJin…” YunJin. Alright. Jiwon took a deep breath, preparing himself for the most vital part of the plan. _ Here goes- _

_ “YUNJIN HYUNG? _IT’S ME! YOUR LONG LOST BROTHER, GONGCHAN!” 

He was met with silence, except for the loud heaving of his own breath from the exclamation, and Bobby’s act nearly fell apart there and then. The look that the boy gave him in response was _ priceless_. He had become completely frozen: mouth hung open, eyes wide. More confused than a child being told babies don’t actually come from stalks or that the presents under their tree were actually dropped off by their own traitorous parents. Bobby was beginning to worry he had broken him completely; was it possible to get shocked into stillness for eternity?

What felt like an eternity later, a sudden ugly noise escaped the other. B.I flew his hand up in a futile attempt to silence it, but the noises continued. Belatedly, Bobby realised that the choking sound was actually _ laughter_. It was the second time he had made B.I laugh, yet he sounded different this time: more hysterical, uncontrollable. It was so dumb, so _ loud _ and _ childish. _ And people were staring, Bobby could feel their questioning eyes boring into back, but he couldn’t _ look away_. 

Even now; however ridiculous he looked and sounded, B.I was _ breathtaking. _

And Bobby couldn’t hold back anymore, his own laughter bubbling up in his chest and escaping his lips against his will. Throwing his head back to release his own shrieking laugh whilst B.I curled in to the table, a hand banging on the surface and chaotic cackling raking his whole stature. 

Just like that, all inhibitions disappeared. There was no acting, no side-stepping or false pretences; they were just two young adults, laughing stupidly in odd harmony. 

They had barely calmed down when Jiwon went to finally sit down, but all it took was a raise of eyes and they were bursting again. They hid mirth behind trembling hands; looking down only to find two pairs of childish eyes drawn together again, like a love-sick couple incapable of parting for longer than a few seconds before re-finding inevitability in eachother. 

It took a lot of shuffling and coughing, followed by contagious fits of giggles before effort was regained again, for them to find any sense of composure. Sitting, facing eachother, sparing only short glances to eachother from the worry of relapse.

“So… um, you’re my brother?” Jiwon took a sharp breath in at the trembled out question in an attempt to push down the giggles itching the back of his throat. 

“Yeah. I, uh,” Jiwon coughed, to hide his slight voice break, “found your information. In the, um, adoption records.” B.I nodded deeply, appearing thoughtful but the producer could see the clenching and unclenching of his hands. He could feel his own lips struggling to stay tilted down too, so he placed his face in his palms. “I’ve... missed you. Hyung.” 

“So you stalked me?” Bobby choked at the word, barely able to stop himself releasing a laugh, and could see the look of accomplishment that B.I was trying to hide at his reaction.

“I had no choice. I thought I’d never see you again… Jinnie-hyungie.” The nickname gained its desired effect; the other quickly raising a fist to hide the inflation in his cheeks, but unable to prevent a quiet sniffle. So he went along with the act, wiping a tear from his eyes that had escaped during the previous hysterics. 

“It’s,” B.I paused, feigning emotional, “it’s been so long since you’ve called me that. G-Gongiechannie.” Bobby physically couldn’t hold back the snort back this time at B.I’s retaliation. Though he found himself less disappointed than he expected, more so when he noticed the crystalline twinkling through the dark in the other’s eyes. 

_ There you are. _Jiwon knew he was right: there was a person worth looking for hiding behind the act, and Jiwon was willing to follow a facade to find him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter, you should now get a feel of what exactly I am going for / trying to accomplish with this fic. I’m sorry to anybody who felt misled by the reveal last chapter, I tried my hardest to stray from implying memory issues because it’s not what the story is about at all, but it seems a lot of people still read it that way. I hope this doesn’t ruin your enjoyment of the story! 
> 
> Anyways. This happened. We’re getting to the good stuff now... I guess? Idk . I prefer writing the stuff that will be happening now than the plot-heavy content of the first 2 chaps :P
> 
> Remember to follow me on twitter !! (Please) I wanna do polls and stuff on there about future chapters or other fics so u can vote on those! - @aj_binc


	4. Chapter 4

Jiwon had always been an observant person, he had long known this. Being able to read people so easily had become both a blessing and a curse for him. He could see the things people tried to hide; which meant he could always tell when something was bothering one of his friends and help them, but also the things he didn’t want to see; like the malicious snickers hidden behind otherwise polite smiles, or the disinterested gaze in a partner that had fallen out of love with him. It drove his own friends crazy, like when he discovered Donghyuk’s attraction to Yunhyeong, because it gave him leverage to tease the hell out of them later. 

However, even he could tell that he had become almost too observant towards B.I. It was likely a result of how little the other showed, how much was hidden beneath layers of falseness and acting, but it made him so in tune with the parts of him that were real, that it was almost scary. Like when their drinks arrived and Jiwon reached for a long spoon from the bar before the other even made a move, knowing that he liked to mix his cocktails before drinking because he was always subconsciously paranoid they weren’t mixed properly and he’d be left with pure alcohol at the bottom. Or when he ordered apple juice with his whiskey when he went up for the second round of drinks because he knew that despite wanting to act mature, B.I didn’t like the taste of alcohol much at all and one cocktail a night was his limit. 

It was as though he had developed a reciprocity to every one of the younger’s needs or actions, desperate to receive the retaliation of sincerity that he himself had been pouring out to the other awashedly. He watched B.I like a hawk, followed every small gesture as though a second missed was a second wasted.

He knew it was because of the looming fear that none of this was real. He was terrified that he would wake up one day and find out that everything was a dream; arrive at the bar only to find no B.I and no Yunhyeong, because everything had been a conjuring of his imagination from the start. Even sitting there: in the present, with B.I less than a meter away from him, knees bumping every so often and listening to another of B.I.’s made-up stories about the job he worked at that week; he was terrified to even blink too long. Everything about the boy with messy brown hair and silently weeping eyes felt fictional, out of reach. 

Like he was miles away, far beyond SingSong and only slipping further despite his physical body sitting solidly on the stool across from him. A fairytale prince that always left at midnight sharp else his cover would fall apart and his pumpkin carriage break. 

Except Jiwon was no prince, with no glass shoe to trace after. He didn’t even have a name. 

On one of these nights, when everything felt more hazy than real, Jiwon found he couldn’t even bring himself to hold a true conversation with the other. 

B.I had already gone through his routinely character description, the two now left in a comfortable silence of sorts. It was nearing midnight already, the time passing by far too quickly with small talk and hidden smiles passed back and forth. 

Time goes quickly when you’re having fun, they say, but nothing about this was fun or enjoyable. It was comfortable; in a hollow, bittersweet kind of way. Jiwon’s heart could only be sped up B.I, yet his heart also fell into a painfully stasis around him. The irony was almost laughable. 

“It’s 5 minutes to 12.” B.I broke the silence, causing Jiwon to look up and catch eyes with the other. It was there again, the masked feeling of something, raw and tragic and unfounded. What was plaguing him? Why did he look so heartbroken? 

“Yeah.” He barely remembered to reply, the response hardly a mutter. 

“I need to leave soon.”

“Okay.” 

They were staring, searching, unable to tear their eyes away. A non-verbal conversation that spoke louder than any words they’d ever exchanged. But words never outright spoken could not be acted upon. 

What felt like an eternity passed: Jiwon stood up without even thinking to follow the younger out. Their eye contact was broken forcibly when B.I had to turn to head towards the exit, though Jiwon trailed after him regardless. Drawn like a moth to light; wanting to get closer and closer yet knowing foolishly that getting too close would result in his end. 

They left the venue and stood outside in the evening chill. Silence cloaked them thick as an impermeable fog, there was a tension hanging in the air of too many words left unsaid that just wanted to be make themselves known. 

But they didn’t. 

And so, the deafening silence continued. 

They were waiting, for something. Different things, perhaps. A ‘goodbye’, a ‘ thank you’. A ‘Please don’t go’. Yet these were words that would reveal too much; too soon. 

“I’m going that way.” B.I gestured to his side then let his head drop forward, unwilling to meet Bobby’s eyes. 

“I know. Uh- I mean- okay, that’s cool.” Jiwon took a breath at his slip up, barely remembering to keep up his act. 

Despite the statement, nobody moved. The desperation was almost suffocating now; a pressure against Jiwon’s rib cage that made it too hard for his chest to move, to inhale. 

Jiwon finally found the courage to look up, chase the other’s gaze, but he was too late. B.I was already turning, leaving. The words on Jiwon’s tongue lingered, the distance between them grew. Feathers fluttered out of reach, slipping through his fingers before he managed to grasp them. He didn’t move, long after the other’s figure disappeared behind a corner. 

Was it even possible to capture a bird that refused to fly? 

* * *

Bobby had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard the unlocking of his door or hear the newcomer stepping into his studio until he felt traitorous hands enclosing around him from behind. Jiwon would have elbowed the intruder in an unforgivable place had a boisterous but very familiar laugh not escaped his lips before he got the chance to. 

“ _ Dong,  _ what did I say about letting yourself in without my permission.” Donghyuk only ignored Jiwon’s exasperated complaint, already making himself at home on the worn couch in the corner and unpacking what looked to be some kind of takeaway. 

“Chinese?” He replied instead, unfaltered by the glare the older man sent him and proceeding to push papers off the desk in order to make room.

“Hey,  _ hey!”  _ Jiwon rushed forward to grab the sheets that were being pushed off the floor and into places they didn’t belong. “You’re messing it up!” 

Donghyuk only snorted. “Messing it up? As if it wasn’t a complete mess already.” 

“It isn’t a mess to  _ me.”  _ He clutched the paper to his chest protectively. “Why are you even here, to antagonise me again? I’m working, got plenty of songs in the making.” 

“You’re working too much. Spend some time with me.”

“Jesus, has anyone ever told you you’re  _ needy?” _

“You. Every day.”

“Then maybe you should start doing something about it.” No response. “What are you doing?” Jiwon said, not looking away from where he was clicking away on his screen but still unnerved by the silence. 

“Jeez, you really are writing some depressing shit, huh?” Jiwon whipped his head around at the exclamation, spotting the pestering friend reading through one of his lyric notebooks.

“Gimme that!” He lunged forward to snap it away, though Donghyuk didn’t try particularly hard to keep hold of it. 

The damage had been done.

“I thought you and mysterious-singsong-boy were doing okay?” He must have noticed the look Jiwon had shot him because he raised his hands up defensively, “What? Yun tells me stuff.”

“Well I’m glad  _ your  _ love life is working out, at least.” 

“We’re not-“ A look. A pause. A sigh. “Look, nothing’s official yet. But that’s not important, you’ve been in an emotional slump for weeks. I thought getting you out there would help, and it did  _ for some time,  _ but you’ve just been weirdly, like, mellow lately? I don’t know you’ve just seemed down. You’re writing, and you’ve got a muse and all, but you look like you’ve come to some kind of standstill with everything.” 

Jiwon’s shoulders visibly slumped at the observation. “I hate the fact that you’re spot on with everything.” He mumbled gruffly, a satisfied smile erupting on Donghyuk’s face in response that screamed  _ that’s cause I’m your best friend _ . It was a short-lived expression, turning to a more concerned one now that he had his friend’s cooperation. 

“What’s bothering you?” 

Jiwon forced a breath out, the answer somehow feeling more strenuous than it should do. “I don’t know what to do. I just… is it possible to fall for someone you don’t even know?” 

Donghyuk scrunched his face in thought. Usually he’d just say  _ of course not _ , but knew that with Jiwon no question was as simple as it initially appeared at face value. “Well… it depends what you classify as ‘knowing someone’?” The slightly agape look on his friend’s face gave him confidence that this was the right approach. Donghyuk couldn't think for him, not to mention he was in no position to tell the other what to do, but he could certainly get him thinking enough that he could reach the solution himself.

“So I’m in love? With a man who I don’t even know the name of?” At the pity-filled look his friend gave him, Bobby forced his head to turn away. He felt helpless. He didn’t want to be pitied, he just wanted a solution. “You must think I’m an idiot.” 

“No. I think you’re both clearly troubled yet stupidly infatuated with each other, and that there’s something really complicated holding him back.”

Something about the words intrigued Bobby. “Both of us?” He turned to the dancer fully now. “Him too?”

“Yeah? He wouldn’t still go along with all your dumb games if he didn’t like you.”

“I’m the one going along with his games-“

“Yeah _ ,  _ well, he wouldn’t even  _ let  _ you go along with him and still talk to him every week if he really was so adamant on never speaking to you again.” 

This left Jiwon silent again, contemplative. Donghyuk felt sorry for him, it was clear that this Jiwon was knee-deep a situation that was deeper than either of them could properly comprehend. “Then what should I do?” The question sounded quiet, unsure; so unlike his best friend that Donghyuk faltered, feeling temporarily helpless.

“You may not like the sound of this…” he sighed eventually, “but I don’t want to see you get hurt. And no matter how much this B.I guy does or doesn’t like you, you’re only going to get hurt if he continues to lead you on without giving anything back. So maybe… you need to just, give up.” 

Hurt flashes across Jiwon’s face. “Give up?” 

“Not right away! Just, maybe give him a chance? Like, make the offer of whether or not he actually wants to try getting to know you for real? And if he doesn’t take it, then you might have to just move on…” 

Donghyuk doubted his own words even as he said them, more so at the other’s downcast nod in response.  _ Move on? Was Bobby even capable of that?  _ The older had always been too stubborn, believing he can save everyone and achieve anything if he tries hard enough. It was a good trait, for the most part; but it resulted in situations like these. 

There was a reason Bobby had only ever gotten broken up with, after all. 

He didn’t know how to give up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry ,, this took so long to update , and it’s such a short update too ...
> 
> I’ve just been in such a slump lately (putting it lightly) with life and writing both, so I wasn’t able to do this chapter the justice I wanted to. I was even considering just giving up writing altogether , but a single user (you know who you are) said they’re a fan of my writing and r waiting for me to update . It just made me so motivated again and helped so much, I can’t even thank them enough. 
> 
> Anyways , thanks to all of you who read this piece of trash. Hopefully I won’t take as long with the next update .


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please take a step towards me, even if it means you have to walk backwards.

The next time Jiwon arrived at SingSong, he didn’t hesitate. He walked right up to B.I, as he had many times before, but with a completely different goal this time. 

B.I wasn’t surprised anymore, not until the first words came out of Bobby’s mouth.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

The widening in the boy’s eyes halted Bobby’s hopefulness and for a moment, he thought he’d decline. It was the slightest of nods, little more than a jerk of the head, that had happiness lifting his heart. 

Through his single-minded determination, Bobby hadn’t planned very far ahead. “Um… so, where do you-“

“I know where. Follow me.”

* * *

He pushed through the jagged trees after B.I. into a small area of flattened grass; surrounded by trees at three sides and only just large enough for two adults to sit side-by-side in. Facing it, on the only side lined by a row of short shrubs, was the most beautiful view of the Han River. It was positioned in such a way that the shrubs would usually hide the small clearing, hence its unpopulance despite it being such an otherwise crowded city. 

The sun had not fully set yet, peeping halfheartedly over the horizon and casting its auburn gaze on its onlookers. When Bobby looked at B.I who had by now settled down with him in the grass, the sunburnt light sharply illuminating his high cheekbones and shapely nose, a new feeling flooded through him. It was as though he was looking at the stranger for the first time; the usual blue-ish light of the bar not having done his true beauty justice. 

There was something new swimming in those usually mellow eyes: nervousness, yes, but also a sort of excitement; or maybe it was resignation. It was always hard to tell with him. 

Bobby noticed the prolonged silence and starts thinking about what to say, but his efforts are unneeded when B.I cuts off his thought-process. 

“I’m Hanbin.” 

And Jiwon knew, just like that, that this wasn’t just another one of the other’s acts. The tension in the boy’s shoulders, the way his eyes flitted towards his own in anticipation; it could only be the truth, raw and unexpected. Bobby didn’t even realise he was staring, wordlessly. He was snapped out of his daze when something even more bizarre happened: a smile; inconspicuous but abashed, an emotion he’d never seen on B.I before.

On Hanbin. 

His name was _ Hanbin _.

_ He had a name. _

“I’m Jiwon.” He finally managed to stutter out, “Bobby is my American name.” The smile on Hanbin’s face widened , losing its hesitant edge and transforming into something more akin to relief. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Jiwon.” 

The elder felt his own lips retaliate, eyes squeezing and cheeks compressing in a way that could in no way be attractive, but he found himself not caring. Not when it evoked a sight so gorgeous before his eyes, rarer than the rarest gemstone in a mineshaft. “I’m so glad to finally meet you too. Hanbin.” 

But then he panicked. He had dragged Hanbin out, pressured him into this. There must have been a good reason he hadn’t said his name before, what if Bobby’s impatience had ruined things between them?

“I’m sorry. I pushed you, you didn’t want to tell me-“

“No.” He was surprised to be cut off, but not as surprised as he felt when he saw the look of determination in Hanbin’s gaze. “I wanted to, I didn’t know how to… after pretending for so long…” 

“Why did you? Pretend, that is.” 

The response he got was a smile, though so forced and shaky it was hard to identify it as one. Hanbin eventually looked down, unable to meet Bobby’s gaze. “I… I guess I just wanted to try being someone else. Well, it’s more complicated than that… but then maybe it’s not. Maybe it really is that simple…”

Bobby found himself more lost hearing the answer to the question than when it started first plaguing him after the second time he met Hanbin those many months ago. He had imagined abuse, manipulation, maybe even a celebrity in hiding; built up a hundred dramatic scenarios to why this identity he had come to know as B.I was forced to hide his true self. But, was it just that simple? Was the boy he thought he had come to know, past the aliases, really this uncaring, that he had led Jiwon on this long for a reason as flippant as that?

Yet, Jiwon’s gut was screaming. He could see the tightening of Hanbin’s hands, frailer than he last remembered them, paling like the now rising moon from their tight clenching on the fabric of his hoodie; his shoulders bowing too low for the weight he had allowed himself to disclose. There was more to it, and Bobby wasn’t deserving to know. Or, Hanbin wasn’t able to say. Either reason made him feel helpless. 

His hand reached out against his will, grasping at nothing but air. He had been told B.I’s real name, but the real Hanbin felt even further apart. The distance he thought he was closing grew before his eyes: the lonely boat floating further away and Bobby losing his grasp on the single fraying rope he possessed to pull it back. What if the heavy fog that hung like carpet had misled him, and the boat was really just empty? The stranded figure he thought he’d seen was in fact nothing more than abandoned bags and cloaks...

Despite sitting beside a warm body, Jiwon suddenly felt a chill.

“I… should probably go.” It was only when Hanbin spoke up, too long after, that the older realised they had been sitting in silence. He reprimanded himself for falling into a spiral of thoughts again. It was too early, midnight still hours away. Why would he leave now? Had everything Jiwon built up all this time, collapsed with one faulty move?

“Don’t leave.” His plea was somehow enough. Hanbin breathed a sigh of relief, sinking into himself as though finally letting gravity do its job. “I’m- I enjoyed it. Finding out about little bits of you, even if you didn’t always tell me willingly.” 

“Oh. I guess this is weird then, huh? Talking to me without the... games.” 

“Definitely. But I prefer it.” Hanbin looked up at that; the most honest expression of surprise that Bobby had ever seen on his face. 

“Then why did even go along with it in the first place? Any other person would’ve given up straight away, or gotten mad.” 

“I dunno, to be honest. I can’t figure it out myself. Guess I should get back to you on that? Now that I can actually talk about it.” 

Hanbin only shook his head with bewilderment that increased with the growing smile on the other’s face. “You’re so weird.” 

The phrase made him smile wider; knowing the toothy smile he threw made him look like a bunny. “Says you, Mr. ‘B.I’” 

“B.I? Is that what you started calling me?” 

Bobby’s smile twisted sideways; more embarrassed now, with a hand coming to rub the back of his neck self-consciously. “It’s what everyone calls you. You always sit at the same table.” 

“B1?” Hanbin’s lips pursed in thought briefly, “Song came up with that, didn’t he?” 

A choked laugh escaped Jiwon at that, “It’s that obvious?” 

“He’s tries too hard to help everyone, even the people that don’t want it.” Despite his criticism, the boy’s smile was fond. “Like you. Though, I guess I’m not exactly complaining.” 

And for the first time, Bobby wondered if this was okay. Hanbin was gradually materialising into a human being before his eyes, nearing the desperate reach of his fingertips. Yet, Bobby was afraid. The man coming alive before him was more than fragile; and he knew it would not take much to break him. 

Suddenly, Hanbin felt untouchable. Bobby was not perfect, even in his imperfectness. He was angry, sad, impulsive. And Hanbin was distrustful, yet naive; damaged, yet pure-hearted.

What if Bobby could become the exact thing that would break him? 

Not even the easy-going smile on Hanbin’s face could stop his worries this time.

* * *

“Do you think people have an innate need to be open? Some get hurt. Which makes them retract into themselves and lose trust in humanity, but they still crave for that genuineness in others because they _ need _it, not just because they want it?”

_ “What are you saying? Are you drunk? You’ve been really weird lately, you know that?” _ Alike usual, Jinhwan’s voice sounded distracted and exasperated from the other line. However, normally his friend encouraged all his poetic ramblings. Something must have happened to make him more agitated than usual; trouble in paradise, perhaps. _ “Did you speak to that A.I guy in the end? Is that what this is about?” _

“B.I. He’s a real person, not some high-tech robotic intelligence. And yes, I did. His name is actually Hanbin.” The other boy’s tone was contagious. Whilst this meant a contagion for laughter and good humour was possible, yet today it felt more like Jiwon had three choreographies to complete within the following week not just Donghyuk. 

_ “Whatever, you've been spending way too much time on dumb stuff like that lately. What happened to ‘having no life outside of making music because it’s your life’s passion’?” _

“Who bit _ your _ass this morning?” 

A sigh. _ “Look. Have you talked to your dad recently yet? I’ve been getting worried calls from your mum about the whole situation and I do not have time to deal with this shit, man.” _

“I’m sorry.” 

“_ You’re not.” _

“No, you’re right, I’m not. I don’t care what more he has to say, I’ve heard enough from him. And mum shouldn’t be seeking his validation like that anymore either.” 

“_ You know it’s not that easy- _“

“Why didn’t she call me? Why is she getting you involved?” 

“_ Because you act like _ this. _ You get mad and it scares her.” _

Jiwon’s voice got quiet, “... I scare her?” 

“_ Those weren’t her exact words but- just, be a bit nicer about it. I know you’re mad at him, I would be too if he were my dad, but it’s not all as simple as you make it sound.” _

He finally agreed, if only to get the phone call over with, and said his goodbyes.

Things he had wanted to ignore forever were piling up, and Bobby wasn’t liking it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for the short chapter, and how long it took for an update... I was going through a hella writer’s block and just going through so much shxt in my own life that it was rly difficult to update this. 
> 
> The story will now take a slightly different turn, I guess. The overall feeling of the story will become different, and this is spoiled in the last few paragraphs. I guess you could say this is where the angst will begin. This is why I decided to cut the chapter so short, because I feel like future chapters will be very different now so I wanted that disconnection rather than feeling forced to write more just to get a word count up.
> 
> Anyway, sorry once again. I can’t promise another update soon, but I can definitely hope... I hope you enjoyed despite the short length. 
> 
> Twitter: @aj_binc


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Hanbin text the next day and, after slight panic on Hanbin’s behalf, decide to meet again.

Jiwon stared at the combination of letters on his screen: spelling for a name that he had only learned the day before, yet somehow felt as though he had known it forever, the comfort of it sinking heavily into his bones. 

_ Hanbin _ .

The contact picture was empty.

Beneath it lay a single grey box, cradling a short yet precious sentence in its embrace, ‘Hey, this is Hanbin.’ 

They had gotten each other's numbers. Well, technically Jiwon had given Hanbin his number, who had then proceeded to text him right away to make sure Bobby had it too.

The point remained that the text was there, lacking a response. 

[To Hanbin]

-Hey, Hanbin. I’d say it’s Jiwon but you already know that, uh

-It was nice

-Yesterday, I mean

Bobby waited only a few moments before receiving a response.

[From Hanbin]

-I liked it too :)

-It was nice talking to you outside of SingSong 

[To Hanbin] 

-Hahaha however much I love Song’s prying face, I have to agree 

-10/10 would do again 

The response took a little longer to come that time. 

[From Hanbin]

-I don’t know how to do this.

Jiwon’s heart sank a little. 

[To Hanbin]

-Do what?

[From Hanbin]

-Idk, act normal. 

[To Hanbin]

-You don’t have to act like anything. You’re perfectly normal right now.

[From Hanbin]

-Thank you.. :) 

A smile subconsciously made its way to Jiwon’s lips. Something sharp had stabbed him beneath his heart at the boy’s confession earlier, and had to refrain himself from going on a rant to reassure the other. Somehow, he felt that would do more bad than good, too overwhelming when Hanbin had only just started opening up. 

[To Hanbin]

-So what do you actually do? Other than accounting, journalism, electritioning, being amazing,,

[From Hanbin] 

-Haha. Nothing you’d wanna know, business stuff. But I wanna know what you do!! You said producing, right? When we first met?

[To Hanbin]

-It’s okay, only tell me once you feel comfortable. 

-Yes :) I write and produce songs, yeah. It’s mostly for other artists but I rap or sing some myself. 

[From Hanbin]

-You rap??? I, um, like rap too. And music.

[To Hanbin] 

-Yeah haha. 

Jiwon paused, willing a bit of courage.

[To Hanbin]

-Wanna come to my studio to see? I could show you some tracks too.

He waited. And he waited some more.

Once 5 minutes passed, Jiwom tried to distract himself with something as he waited. He looked at his screen, displaying the song he had been working on but hadn’t touched in a few hours. He knew, in theory, what he wanted with it, but he couldn’t quite find the best way he could put that idea into reality. So he played his song again, then again. 

15 minutes passed. He had resorted to playing a single riff on the keyboard on repeat, under the pretext that he was practicing his piano skills. Bobby was no pianist, knowing only enough to write decent music with it. But his mind had run dry of ideas; his focus tunneling on the rectangular device on his desk that had remained silent for far too long.

At 30 minutes his phone pinged, and Bobby had probably never lunged for something faster in his life. Seeing the name of one of his clients, though, with some message about liking the track he’s sent, had him deflating again. Had Jiwon gone too far? Maybe it was too soon, Hanbin  _ had  _ only just opened up…

By the time the anticipated name finally popped up on his blank screen, exactly 47 minutes had passed. Jiwon’s hand unwillingly shook when he reached for the phone, internally blaming it on his tremor though knowing it was more than that. 

[From Hanbin]

-I’m sorry. I freaked out.

-I… don’t think I’m ready for that yet… I’m sorry

[To Hanbin]

-It’s okay. I’m sorry for pushing you. Take it at ur own pace, please.

The logical part of Bobby’s brain tried to focus on the “yet”, and how it implied something hopeful for the future. But it didn’t take long for another part of him to take over: the part that kept him up at night; that drove him to drinking alone on a rough night, or was the greatest motivator for the increasing number of missed calls from his mother that he had yet to respond to. 

Jiwon was not a gentle person. He was angry, jealous, impatient. He never knew how to give up. While that was a good thing most of the time, it also made him forceful and overwhelming. Whereas Hanbin was damaged, that much was clear, and Jiwon was paranoid that he couldn’t give him the sensitivity and gentleness that he needed. This conversation had been a clear example of all the reasons that Jiwon should  _ stop.  _ He had already freaked Hanbin out on their first day of talking... And what did that even mean? Did he just need a break to gather his thoughts; or was it something more serious?

Had Bobby just caused Hanbin a panic attack?

But what if Hanbin didn’t have anyone else? He said he didn’t know how to ‘act normal’… Could that mean that Hanbin didn’t have anyone to  _ act  _ normal  _ with _ ? How could he leave Hanbin now when he, after Jiwon became the first person to offer his hand, had so desperately squeezed back?

Through his internal crisis, Jiwon hadn’t realised that the target of his doubt had sent another message.

[From Hanbin]

How about at SingSong instead?

Relief wasn’t what Jiwon felt. No, it was greater than that: more frantic; incomprehensible. Throughout his rumination, he had forgotten one key fact.

Hanbin was  _ trying.  _

And Jiwon... He wanted to try too. 

[To Hanbin]

-Let’s do it. Usual time?

* * *

Approaching SingSong the next day felt different. It always did, Jiwon had realised. 

Fridays were a lot quieter, surprisingly. Likely because more students came out on Fridays for a night out, and no student was getting pissed at a bar that sold every drink at double the standard price.

For the first time since their first meeting those many weeks ago, Bobby had arrived first. So he took his time coming to the bar, Yunhyeong wasn’t working that day, and ordered a drink for the both of them. It wasn’t hard to choose one for Hanbin, a weak cocktail that tasted more like juice than alcohol, after observing him so intently for so long. 

It took only a few minutes for Jiwon to spot Hanbin enter, straightening up to wave him over even though their table was the same as always. Upon arrival, however, Hanbin didn’t sit. He stood before Jiwon, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other, hands fidgeting for a second before he forced them down to his sides. 

“I’m ready.”  _ What? _ It was clear that the other was trying to appear nonchalant, but there was a tremor in his voice that Bobby had never heard before. 

“What?” He voiced his confusion.

“Let’s get out of here.” Jiwon’s mouth opened slightly, more a gesture of surprise than realisation, but felt an inability to question Hanbin more when he spotted the determination brimming in his eyes.

“You wanna leave?” He waited for the other to nod. “Okay, we’ll go. But you might as well sit down first, I already bought us drinks. You don’t have to feel pressured to rush, yeah?” Hanbin appeared a little flustered at that, but he nodded abashedly then settled down in the empty chair.

_ Well. This was new.  _

Even outside the bar, Hanbin confided in the familiar. 

They had returned to the clearing they were in only two days ago, comfortably as though it was something they’d done countless times. 

Jiwon had been worried that things would be different, despite their texting. But talking to Hanbin was as easy as it always had been, even when he had only been acting. The only difference was how much he actually liked to talk. It appeared that Hanbin spoke more when he was nervous, stumbling over his words in an effort to get them all out as soon as possible. He didn’t say anything specific or personal, choosing instead to ramble about random topics like why the sunset was orange or how birds took flight. Frankly, Jiwon found it adorable. It probably wasn’t normal, to be so whipped already, but he couldn’t help staring with a smile too fond for how little he actually knew about the other.

“So I… well I had a dream about it and it’s kind of weird ‘cause we don’t really know each other that well but it’s something I’ve kind of been thinking about for a long time and-” 

“What is it?” Jiwon decided to spare him the long-winded explanation for once.

“Can I… hold your hand?”

_ God,  _ this boy was going to kill him. 

So they held hands, and it was the purest thing Jiwon had ever had the honour of experiencing.

“You know, you were the first person that stayed.” Jiwon looked up at Hanbin in question at the change in tone, moving his eyes away from where they were gazing upon their interlocked hands. Hanbin looked up to meet Jiwon’s eyes, but looked away too quickly to reveal anything. “After I met someone for the second time and pretended not to know them. Everyone else gave up after that. You’re the only one that sat down and tried again.” 

“Oh.” Jiwon muttered dumbly, unsure of how to respond to the confession. He thought back to the night,  _ that explained the initial confusion.  _

“Why?” Those eyes were on him again; this time raw and unforgiving, the pleading in them blatantly honest. When Hanbin didn’t have to hide behind a cover, his emotions were reflected in those orbs so clearly and vividly, like bright images shone by a slide projector. Undeniable, but almost painful to look at from their sheer intensity. 

“I don’t know.” Bobby answered honestly. He lifted a hand to thumb at the corner of one of Hanbin’s eyes; pressing into the dip and tugging lightly at it to stretch out the skin a millimetre. “Something to do with these.” He released the skin to let it fall back into place, then dropped his hand to the grass to fiddle with Hanbin’s fingers. 

“Huh?” Hanbin blinked blankly, “My eyes?” 

“Yeah. They’re, like, honest... you know?” When Hanbin only furrowed his eyebrows, Bobby tried to elaborate. “I don’t know how to explain it, it’s gonna sound dumb but… it’s like, even though you looked different and had a different name, I could still see the core of what makes you, you. In your eyes.” 

Hanbin wrinkled his nose in response. “You’re right, it does sound dumb. You can’t see someone’s true self in their eyes.” He looked down at their tightly bound hands.  _ You’re wrong, _ Jiwon wanted to say,  _ I saw yours, _ but kept his mouth shut. He kept his eyes on the younger’s face instead, imprinting every intricacy into his mind.  _ One day,  _ he hoped.  _ One day he’ll realise.  _

Realise what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeehaaawww now ain't this surprising. It didn't actually take me like a month to update lmaoo.
> 
> First of all... THANK YOU FOR 1K HITS WHOOP WHOOP PASS ME THAT BOTTLE OF WINE.  
But fr, not to be that person, but y'all are actually rly cute and your support means a lot uwu.
> 
> AnyWaYs some news: I am actually writing another Double B fanfic called 'Highs & Lows'. It'll be hella angsty lol bc apparently that's all I can write anymore, altho depending on my mood I might write a crack spin-off called 'Highs & Lols' bc someone said they missed my crack fics. It'll be a WARNING: VERY triggering fic, if it goes the way I've planned it, as I'm gonna be me projecting my own issues onto the characters so have "fun".  
I actually started writing it like two years ago back when I was an army for a taekook fic and even posted the first chap (which I hope none of y'all managed to read before I deleted it bc it was: utter shite), but I've now changed my approach and some plot etc and I'm a lot happier going into it now. I have completed the first chap (its 6k that's LONG for me) but I'm thinking of writing ahead a bit before I post anything cause I don't wanna end up having as chaotic updates as Hiraeth hahaha. 
> 
> ALSO I now have a curiouscat for all y'all losers (jk i love u too) that r too shy to tell me just how inCREDIBLE my fic is to my face,,, or , ykno, if ya wanna bitch about how much it sucks which is OKAY u do YOU 
> 
> Okay AJ out bye hoes

**Author's Note:**

> Add me on social media!!  
Twitter: @aj_binc  
Curiouscat: aj_binc (Also on twt bio)  
Tumblr: @istan13idiots - this is an old acc that’s mostly svt coz I haven’t rly been on it lately, but if that’s the only sns u have then u can try on there ( ^ω^ )


End file.
